


Night Out

by charivari



Series: Decepticon Teachers AU [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Drinking, Humanformers, Jealous Tarn, Kaon/Tarn fluff, M/M, Pharma/Tarn relationship angst, Tarn gives TC a music lesson, Thundercracker is a hack, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:33:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3991849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarn has a not-so-great-night due to Pharma and Thundercracker. Sequel to Career Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Out

Tarn wasn't a fan of the bar scene. He disliked the noise, the smell of cigarettes and the certain class of degenerate that frequented them. But right now he needed a drink. He had a nice brand of whiskey at home. But his family would inevitably ask why he was back so early from Pharma's. He didn't feel like explaining how he had buzzed Pharma's apartment - only for a man who wasn't Pharma to answer the door.

He was older than Pharma, with grey streaks in his hair. He was dressed in a white dress-shirt with his tie hanging loose around his neck. Usually when people first laid eyes on Tarn - his piercings and large size - they flinched. But this man didn't flinch, though he did look surprised.

"Can I help you?"

Tarn clenched his fists. Who was he? This man in Pharma's apartment, looking like he had only recently dressed. A lover?

"I'm looking for Pharma," he demanded.

"Are you a patient?" the man inquired calmly.

"A friend," Tarn was deliberately vague, "Where is he?"

"In the shower," the stranger said with a hint of firmness, "You'll have to wait."

The shower? The odds were stacking in favour of a rendezvous. After sex you usually showered. That was a fact Tarn was well aware of. 

"Ratchet!" he heard Pharma's voice call from inside, "Where are you?"

"At the door," Ratchet called back, "You have a visitor."

"A visitor?" Pharma grumbled. Tarn could hear his shoes on the polished floor, "Whoever it is, tell them to..."

He appeared behind Ratchet. His hair was damp, combed and he was wearing an immaculate suit.

His eyes widened as he glimpsed Tarn.

"Tarn," he suddenly looked very nervous, "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," Tarn said darkly, "Thought I'd stop by."

Stop by and catch you with someone else.

Pharma pushed past Ratchet, almost as though he were trying to shield him.

"You should have called. I'm going out."

"Out?" Tarn echoed.

Pharma adjusted his tie,

"Yes. To a medical lecture," he glanced back at Ratchet, "Go put on your jacket will you."

Ratchet seemed reluctant. But after moment he complied.

"You're going with him?" Tarn hissed.

Pharma sighed,

"Ratchet is my colleague," he stressed the last word.

Oh. Tarn hadn't considered that. Why hadn't he considered that? 

"You should have told me you were unavailable," he said to Pharma, "I wouldn't have bothered coming."

"I can't anticipate you randomly showing up at my house Tarn," Pharma said archly, "Like I said, you could have called."

"Perhaps I wanted to surprise you."

Pharma folded his arms,

"I don't like surprises," he said, "I have to finish getting ready."

As far as Tarn could see he was ready. The words seemed more like an excuse to be rid of him.

"Do I embarrass you?" he watched Pharma tense, "I see you hadn't told your colleague about me."

Pharma looked off to one side, evading eye contact.

"There's nothing to tell," he said, "We're not dating Tarn."

They had been on one outing. The opera. Tarn had visited Pharma a few times after that. They had mostly talked, until Pharma had opened a bottle of vintage wine. They had gotten drunk, ended up kissing, ended up fucking. Pharma seemed to have enjoyed it enough for the cycle to repeat several times.

But according to the Doctor that did not constitute a relationship.

Tarn knew the source of his reluctance. Pharma was afraid to be seen with him. That fear made him disregard all evidence of chemistry, the fact Tarn could match him wit for wit, the fact he could make Pharma beg for his cock.

Despite his intelligence, Pharma was shallow and conceited. Tarn wished that was enough to make him dislike him.

But somehow it wasn't. He still wanted Pharma. That's what compelled him to slam him against the door frame.

"You should really work on your bedside manner Pharma."

He kissed him, fierce and biting. Pharma spluttered and struggled. When Tarn released him, his cheeks were flushed and pink.

"Go," he pleaded, "Please, just... go."

Tarn squared his shoulders, jutted his chin and left.

That was how he wound up in a bar, ordering a whiskey that would probably taste inferior to the one he owned.

"Whuuuzzzzzzzzz."

Tarn turned to the bar fly next to him. His face was buried in the crook of his arms. 

"I beg your pardon?" 

The man's head rolled up, glossy eyes meeting Tarn's. 

"Thundercracker."

"Ohh heeyy," he slurred, "Taarrn."

Thundercracker was Rodion High's drama teacher. He and Tarn were always forced together during the school's annual theater production. It was a partnership Tarn frankly loathed. Thundercracker always picked the most dreadfully cheery musicals. Tarn, as music director, didn't get much say in the matter. 

"Watchooo doin' here buddy?" 

Tarn grimaced at the endearment.

"Having a drink. You look as though you've had several."

Thundercracker's bottom lip jutted in an exaggerated pout.

"I'm wallowin'. Screenplay got rejected. Again."

Thundercracker was aspiring screen writer, forever introducing himself as such. He had persuaded Tarn to read one of his screenplays. Tarn had barely made it past the first page of dialogue. 

It was drivel. But then Hollywood seemed to produce nothing but drivel. Tarn would have thought Thundercracker's terrible characterization and cheesy dialogue would be right up their alley.

"Worked sooo hard y'know," Thundercracker said miserably, "Really thought I had somethin'."

Tarn sipped his whiskey. Normally he wouldn't care. But his episode with Pharma had put him in a sympathetic mood.

"Thundercracker, do you know Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 2?"

Thundercracker looked at him blankly.

"Huh?" 

Tarn couldn't say he was surprised. Thundercracker barely knew anything about theater, let alone classical music.

"It was considered ahead of it's time. In 1913 when it premiered, the audience reacted with hostility. Today it is recognized as one of the most technically difficult piano concerto's."

Thundercracker squinted at Tarn.

"Whuzzz that got to do with me?" 

"You should keep trying."

"I should?"

Tarn forced himself to nod.

Prokofiev please forgive me for comparing you to this hack.

Thundercracker burst into a grin. He grabbed Tarn in a sloppy embrace.

"Thanks Taarrn."

"Don't mention it."

Tarn peeled Thundercrack off and deposited him back on his stool. He swayed there happily, testing the last of Tarn's patience.

"Don't you think you should be heading home?" he prompted.

"Uhhhhhh," Thundercracker contemplated loudly, "Yeah probablies. Told Warp to feed Buster. But I don't trust him." 

He said the last part in a conspiratorial slur. 

He made to hop off the stool and fell ass over head.

Tarn sighed,

"I'll call you a cab."

By the time Tarn arrived home he was exhausted. All that energy spent bundling the inebriated (and clingy) Thundercracker into a taxi. He hadn't bothered to return to the bar to finish the whiskey. 

The house was dark. Nickel would have already left for her late shift at the hospital. The others were supposed to be in bed.

"Tarn?" came a voice in the dark.

Tarn flicked on the light to reveal Kaon. He was curled in an armchair. The Pet, Kaon's beloved mutt, was nestled in his lap. 

"Kaon you shouldn't be up. It's a school night."

"I wanted to wait for you."

Tarn decided not to press this issue. He moved the Pet off Kaon's lap, scooped his youngest brother up and carried him to bed.

"Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" Kaon said as soon as Tarn lowered him down.

Tarn obliged by sitting on the edge of Kaon's bed. It was too small to accommodate him any other way. He leaned down so Kaon could kiss him good night.

"Your breath smells," he chastised.

"Sorry."

"Nickel doesn't like it when you drink," Kaon said, "But I won't tell her."

He snuggled against Tarn's thigh. Tarn patted the boy's head.

"Thanks Kaon."

Tarn closed his eyes briefly. He woke to Nickel yelling at him for sleeping upright. 

"What if you had toppled over and squashed Kaon, you big oaf!"


End file.
